Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 306: Sexy Doctor & Nurse

A heavy silence hung over the hospital as Nathalie and I entered, the air thick with the clinical scent of disinfectant and antiseptic. The corridors were nearly deserted; only female doctors and nurses remained, their quiet whispers and the rhythmic beeping of life-support machines echoing through the stillness.

The fortress-like structure had already been cleared of all male patients, visitors, and staff, leaving behind a palpable sense of dread and urgency.

I stepped toward the reception desk, my tone firm and commanding. "Tyler’s room. Where is it?" The nurse looked up, her gaze shifting between Nathalie and myself before she gestured toward the hallway. "Room 307. It's at the end of the hall."

The long hospital corridor loomed ahead, its sterile white walls and the low hum of medical equipment heightening the surrounding tension.

Nathalie clutched my arm with a grip that bordered on painful, her fingernails sinking into my skin as we entered Tyler’s room. The atmosphere inside reeked of antiseptic mixed with a sharper, more primal scent—fear, despair, and the salt of tears.

Tyler was motionless on the bed, his small body appearing tiny beneath the stark white linens and the maze of wires linking him to the bedside monitors.

A female physician stood by the bed, her back turned to us as she examined the vital signs on the display. Her white lab coat was spotless, and her ID badge identified her as Scarlett, the lead specialist in pediatric trauma.

Next to her, a nurse named Rachel—according to her own badge—was adjusting the IV drip. Her actions were meticulous, yet her face was clouded with visible distress.

The doctor turned toward us as the door creaked on its hinges, her piercing eyes locking onto ours. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice authoritative yet not entirely cold as she looked back and forth between Nathalie and me.

Nathalie’s breath hitched, and her voice wavered as she took a step forward. "I—I’m his mother," she stammered, her words coming out as a frantic, desperate whisper.

"This is my son. Tyler." Her gaze remained fixed on the boy’s face, her expression a tragic blend of relief and sheer horror.

"Please... let me see him. Let me touch him." She reached out, her hand trembling just above his arm, as if terrified he might vanish if she wasn't careful.

Scarlett’s eyes softened slightly, though she maintained her professional poise. "I see," she remarked, her gaze lingering on Nathalie’s tear-stained face before shifting to me, her eyebrows lifting in a silent inquiry.

I took a moment to observe Scarlett—the way her coat draped over her figure, the confident posture of her shoulders, and the sharp intelligence shining in her eyes.

Rachel possessed a quiet strength as well, though her features were twisted into a deep, troubled frown.

Scarlett turned her attention back to Nathalie, her voice steady but gentle. "His condition has been stabilized," she explained, "but the trauma he has been through..." She paused, her eyes drifting toward Tyler’s still form.

"It isn't merely physical. He is enduring extreme mental distress. We have placed him under sedation to prevent further shock to his system." Her tone was medical, yet it held a trace of empathy, perhaps from a mother’s perspective or someone familiar with the world's darker side.

Rachel, who had remained quiet until then, suddenly spoke up, her voice shaking with suppressed fury. "I cannot fathom how something like this happens," she said, her fists clenching at her sides.

"To leave a child in this state—castrated, broken—it makes no sense. This wasn't some accident. What kind of monster could do this?" Her voice broke, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she looked at Tyler, her indignation clear.

Nathalie let out a fractured sob, trembling as she pressed a hand against her lips. "Oh God..." she breathed, the sound muffled by her fingers.

"My baby... what did they do to you?" She looked at Scarlett with wild, desperate eyes. "Can he... will he ever be alright? Is a normal life still possible for him?"

I felt a surge of dark amusement within me—but I kept my face a mask of neutral concern. Nathalie’s agony was nearly intoxicating; her desperation felt like a symphony I could lead with just a single word.

Scarlett threw a sharp look at Rachel, her voice low and stern. "Nurse Rachel, please." The warning hit its mark, and Rachel fell silent immediately, her face flushing with shame as she realized she had lost her composure.

She bowed her head, her fingers nervously tugging at the hem of her scrubs. "I apologize, Doctor. I just... I can't handle seeing a child like this."

Scarlett’s expression grew kinder as she looked back at Nathalie. "He is resting now, which is for the best," she said softly. "The sedation will keep him peaceful while his body mends. But his mind..." She sighed, her professional facade cracking for a brief second. "That will require time. He will need therapy, affection, and patience. A great deal of patience."

Nathalie nodded feverishly, tears flowing as she finally found the nerve to hold Tyler’s hand. "I’ll give him everything," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I’ll never leave him again. I promise." She looked at Scarlett with pleading eyes. "Can we take him home? Please. I need to be the one to care for him."

Scarlett paused, her eyes moving to me again as if weighing whether I was a guardian or a threat. "He is stable enough to be discharged," she finally conceded, "but you must be extremely cautious. His recovery will be difficult, and he requires constant supervision. Do you have the means for that?"

I stepped forward, my voice calm but laced with an undeniable edge of power. "We do," I replied, resting a hand lightly on Nathalie’s shoulder. "He will be perfectly looked after."

Scarlett watched me for a long beat, her eyes searching mine as if trying to find the truth buried beneath my stoic mask.

Whatever she found seemed to satisfy her, as she gave a slow nod. "Very well. Nurse Rachel will assist you with the discharge forms and get Tyler ready for transport."

Rachel moved with haste, her emotional outburst replaced by clinical efficiency. She began unhooking the monitors, her hands steady. "I’ll go get the wheelchair," she said quietly, giving Nathalie one final look of sympathy before exiting the room.

Nathalie remained at Tyler’s side, her tears falling in silence as she whispered a mixture of apologies and vows to him. "I’m here, baby. Mommy’s here. I won’t let anything hurt you ever again."

I watched the scene settle, my thoughts already moving toward the future. The doctor and nurse were far too consumed by their own empathy to notice the predator standing in their midst.

Scarlett’s large, expressive eyes were full of worry, her focus entirely on the boy’s health. Rachel’s kindness was obvious, her fury at Tyler’s plight making her completely blind to the true danger present in the room.